Nine Lives
by LGraceT
Summary: "Oh, Tigerstar, my dearest, dearest deputy, you should have known that after you murdered me in my own den, I'd never let you rest. You'll never be free." -Bluestar "You know, I never thought when I was banished from ThunderClan I'd find a home so soon after I crossed the Thunderpath." -Firestar -Warnings for Violence and Gore, Depression, and Insanity of One Character
1. Chapter 1

_Run! Run like you never have before!_

Fireheart pelted through the thick bracken, squinting as a frond smacked against his forest-green eyes. The ginger tomcat never slowed his pace for a heartbeat.

 _A heartbeat might be all she has!_

The musty odor burned in his nose, taunted him with every paw-step he took. Though the rank stench of many cats permeated the air, he easily detected one familiar scent among them.

 _Tigerclaw!_ _He planned this…sent all of the warriors on patrols so the camp would be unguarded!_

An image of the dark tabby flashed in his mind. Well-muscled shoulders marred with pale scars, Tigerclaw had survived several moons of fierce battles. The seasoned warrior had always given him the same distasteful glare, always been eager to punish him for any action that came close to disobedience.

 _But it's not that._

Fireheart could bear Tigerclaw's unfiltered hatred toward him; most of ThunderClan had insulted or shunned the young warrior for his kittypet heritage. Longtail had even attacked him the day his apprenticeship began, nearly choking him to death by yanking at his collar until it snapped.

 _This isn't some feud. This is_ murder!

The news of the death of Bluestar's former deputy Redtail had been delivered by Tigerclaw's own flighty apprentice Ravenpaw. The small, coal-black tom had evaded his mentor often, always unwilling to be alone with the dark warrior. A blurted confession from the anxious apprentice had revealed Tigerclaw as Redtail's killer, but Fireheart had never succeeded in gathering enough evidence to concern Bluestar.

"Tigerclaw is one of my most loyal warriors, Fireheart." He could hear the blue-gray leader's voice even now. "If this is another one of your concerns about him, I don't want to hear it."

 _Great StarClan, don't let it be true! Please don't let me be right!_

But the scent hit his nostrils like a warrior's claws against his skin.

 _Claws!_

The deadly weapons for which Tigerclaw had received his warrior name could easily rip through tender skin and flesh. Her flesh.Numbness crept over his legs as soon as the thought entered his mind.

 _No! I can't let that happen! I won't!_

The battlecries of several cats reached his ears as he drew nearer to ThunderClan's camp. Whitestorm, Runningwind, Sandstorm—the names came as easily to him as if he had heard them since he had been born a forest cat.

 _The warriors have returned!_

In a final burst of speed, he skidded through the ravine and the gorse tunnel protecting the camp. Sharp, hooked thorns tugged at his pelt as he tore through the entrance, but he paid no attention to them as he raced into the sheltered hollow.

The large clearing where warriors and apprentices shared tongues had become a mass of screeching cats. Whitestorm raked his claws along a brawny tabby's muzzle in front of the warriors' den, while Goldenflower and Brindleface drove a midnight-black tom away from the nursery. Even Longtail and Mousefur matched blows with four of the rogues in the center of the camp, backs pressed against each other for protection.

Fireheart scanned the bare ground for Tigerclaw's long tabby fur and massive build, but he could find no sign of the ThunderClan deputy in the chaos.

 _No!_

"Bluestar!" He raced toward the giant formation of stone towering above ThuderClan's camp.

The lichen-covered entrance to the great rock's hidden hollow stood only a couple of mouse-lengths away from him. Panting, Fireheart burst through the pale green tendrils and into the cool darkness of his leader's den.

A blue-gray lump of fur lay in the center of the small cavern, as silent as the den's air. It made no effort to move from its resting place in the darkness.

Inhaling sharply, Fireheart crept to his leader's side.

"Bluestar?!" he whispered hoarsely. "Come on! We have to get out of here!"

Silence.

"It's me! Fireheart! Listen to me! We have to leave now!" The ginger tom gently prodded the old she-cat…and flinched.

He yanked his paw away from her and stared wide-eyed at the dark liquid coating it.

 _It can't be!_

But it clung to his fur, sticky and warm. Fireheart's final evidence.

"Bluestar…" he murmured, his voice cracking.

Legs quivering, the young warrior buried his muzzle in his leader's bloodied fur, inhaling her scent. The heathery smell had comforted him throughout his apprenticeship, a reminder of the she-cat's wise tongue and fierce love for her Clan. Though blood began to drench his muzzle, he did not pull away from Bluestar's body.

"I'm sorry." Fireheart could barely allow the words to come. "I'm…sorry…"

Intense pain surged through the ginger tomcat's shoulders as hooked barbs sank themselves into his flesh. The rank odor of a large tom assaulted his nostrils, and thick, white belly-fur smothered him.

"Hello, kittypet," the dark assailant growled.

 _No!_

Fireheart thrashed beneath the massive paws, gritting his teeth as the enormous tabby's claws sank into his flesh like a bird-of-prey's talons. Screeching, the ginger tom twisted onto his back and raked his adversary's belly with his back claws. He drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with precious air as he gave one final kick.

The crushing weight of his enemy disappeared, and Fireheart leaped to his paws. His eyes locked onto the hulking form of Tigerclaw crouching at the den's exit. Ears flattened and lips curled in a deep hiss, the dark tabby stalked toward the young warrior.

 _Great StarClan, he's going to kill me if I don't win this!_

Unsheathing his front claws, Fireheart lunged at the seasoned warrior's legs. As soon as he made contact with his target, he sank his teeth into his assailant's front leg. Tigerclaw's deep growl filled his ears, and he let go of his hold. Leaping away from the muscular tom, Fireheart heard the the click of teeth against air.

 _I can do this! For Bluestar!_

Fireheart flattened his ears and hissed before springing at Tigerclaw's shoulder. The sharp sting of claws against his forehead forced him to recoil. The tangy scent of the ginger tom's own blood filled the air, and the crimson liquid filled his eyes. Panting, he shook his head to clear his vision.

 _Where is he?!_

The young warrior never had a heartbeat to recover. The sting of Tigerclaw's talons met the skin of his back, pinning him to the ground. Struggling for breath underneath the deputy's bulk, Fireheart lay with his muzzle in the sand. Warm blood trickled down his shoulders, and his legs quivered uncontrollably as he endured the hooked weapons in his flesh.

"Tigerclaw!"

 _Darkstripe._

A growl rose in Fireheart's throat at the sound of the soot-gray warrior's voice.

"What…?" Darkstripe's question lingered in the air.

"Are the rogues gone?" Tigerclaw asked, his feverish breath filling Fireheart's nostrils with the stench of blood. "Any wounds?"

"Tigerclaw…what's going on?"

Fireheart opened his mouth to speak, but he felt the weight of his dark assailant's paw pressing into the back of his head. Lungs aching with every breath, the ginger tomcat could do nothing.

 _Are the rogues gone?_ Answer me!" Tigerclaw snarled.

The dark tabby's savage claws sank into Fireheart's already-burning wounds.

"Bluestar—?! That kittypet!" Darkstripe's paws flitted across the corner of Fireheart's vision. "I knew—!"

"I've gotten this traitor. Go help the Clan!"

After a few heartbeats of silence, the paws disappeared, and Darkstripe's battle cry joined the mass of screeches and yowls outside of Bluestar's den. Only Fireheart's adversary remained, growling.

Fireheart lost count of what seemed to be endless caterwauls. Each spitting voice blended into complete mayhem, overwhelmed only by the sound of his own blood roaring in his ears. Quivering, the ginger tom closed his forest-green eyes.

 _Maybe this is a dream._

"S-Spottedleaf…" he mouthed, sniffing for any trace of his guide's sweet scent.

 _Nothing. It's real. All of it._

After what seemed to be the passing of nine lives, the final wail of a fleeing rogue pierced the air. Fireheart barely felt the rough grasp of Tigerclaw's teeth fastening onto his scruff. Wincing as fine grains of sand entered the deep scratches on his back, he watched the lichen curtain part to reveal questioning meows and pricked ears.

"Tigerclaw?"

"What's happening?"

"Where's Bluestar?"

 _If only you knew._

"Darkstripe!"

The ginger tomcat felt a sense of weightlessness before he hit the bare ground beneath him.

"Watch him," Tigerclaw growled. "Don't let that murderer escape."

 _Murderer?!_

Fireheart inhaled sharply as Darkstripe sank his own weapons into the same puncture wounds that Tigerclaw had created. Black tendrils had begun to creep around the corners of his vision, and the beat of his own heart reverberated in his skull. Unable to speak, he closed his eyes.

A dull thud caused him to open them. The body of his leader lay beside him, limp and bloodied. Her glazed, sky-blue eyes stared sightlessly ahead, never to burn with determination, to glow warmly on nights of apprentice-naming…to gaze upon him lovingly after a successful day of hunting.

A thin wail rang out in the air, and Fireheart lifted his head at the sight of his former apprentice Cinderpelt. A swathe of cobweb wrapped around her paw, the storm-cloud-gray she-cat limped toward Bluestar, only to be blocked by an ancient, long-haired she-cat.

"Yellowfang—" Cinderpelt began, choking on her own words.

"There's nothing we can do," the old medicine cat replied. "She hunts with StarClan now."

Closing her pale-blue eyes, Cinderpelt shook her head before pressing her muzzle into Yellowfang's matted pelt.

"Cats of ThuderClan." Tigerclaw's deep voice rang out above the Clan's murmurings. Perched atop the great stone, he swept his amber gaze over the cats assembled before him. "We fought well against the rogues, but with a high cost. Bluestar is…dead."

"No!"

"How?"

Yowls of mourning rose into the air, forming into a solitary cry.

"Who did this?!" a dark brown tabby snarled as he shouldered through the circle of cats and approached the base of the leader's rock. "I'll feed him to a fox!"

"Enough, Dustpelt!" A lithe, snow-colored cat leaped in front of the young warrior. "Let Tigerclaw speak. I'm sure he has an explanation for us."

"Thank you, Whitestorm." Tigerclaw gave the white warrior a quick nod. "Bluestar wasn't killed by a rogue. We were all too busy fighting to realize that a traitor was among us!"

 _No!_

Fireheart opened his mouth to protest, only to feel the sting of Darkstripe's claws against his ears. Clenching his teeth, the ginger tomcat glared at Tigerclaw.

"I had just sent a rogue screaming out of the camp when I saw a ginger cat entering Bluestar's den. I followed him, but I…I was too late. The kittypet that Bluestar had kindly taken into our camp—fed—trained—had killed her."

"Fireheart?"

"Traitor!"

"Murderer!"

"Wait." Whitestorm stepped out of the cluster of warriors. "Are you sure? Fireheart's never done anything like this before. And he doesn't have much fighting experience. For him to do this…."

 _Thank you, Whitestorm._

Fireheart blinked gratefully at the snowy tom, struggling to breathe underneath the weight of Darkstripe. Though lacking Tigerclaw's broad shoulders, Darkstripe had still survived a life of battles and the harshness of leaf-bare, a reality of which Fireheart was reminded every couple of heartbeats.

"Bluestar has been leader for several moons, and this was her last life," Tigerclaw continued. "And if he surprised her, she wouldn't have been able to do much about it. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time he's broken the warrior code. He's fed cats from other Clans before with prey from ThunderClan's territory."

"This is true." Darkstripe's voice chimed. "Let's not forget he's the reason Yellowfang lives here now. And why we became so involved with ShadowClan."

The soot-colored tabby flexed his hooked claws, and Fireheart resisted the urge to groan. Tigerclaw's closest follower could never have the satisfaction of knowing that he had caused the young warrior any pain.

"Shut up, Darkstripe! You don't even know what you're talking about!"

 _Graystripe!_

Fireheart's shoulders relaxed at the sound of the familiar voice. Sighing in relief, he shifted his gaze to watch the dark gray tom shove his thickly-built frame through the mass of cats.

"Fireheart wouldn't do anything like this! Not even for his own life!" Graystripe yowled, shaking his head fervently. "He's a noble warrior who follows the code!"

"And what would you know of the warrior code?" Darkstripe growled. "The mother of your kits was from RiverClan!"

Graystripe bared his teeth at the soot-colored warrior. Hissing, he sprang at Fireheart's tormentor, only to be met by Longtail's extended claws and sharp fangs. Both tomcats rolled through the clearing, blurs of dark gray and pale tabby fur. Their screeches rose above the agitated yowls and murmurs of the other warriors as they ripped at each other's flesh.

"That's enough!" Whitestorm leaped into the battle, grabbing Fireheart's friend by his scruff and dragging him off of Longtail.

A patch of fur had been uprooted from above Graystripe's left eye, and warm blood trickled from his shoulder, mingling with the dirt beneath his paws. Panting, he glared at his opponent.

Longtail said nothing, only limped back into the circle of cats, melding with the mass of pelts and pairs of eyes.

"Fireheart was the only one I saw in Bluestar's den, and there wasn't any scent of a rogue. When I found him, he attacked me." Tigerclaw nodded to the ginger tom. "If that's not enough evidence, look at him."

Ears flattened and fur bristled as several pairs of eyes turned upon Fireheart.

"It's true!"

"After what she did for him…"

"How could you?!"

 _What are they staring at?_

"His mouth is soaked with her blood." Tigerclaw flicked his tail at the young warrior.

Fireheart sniffed…and winced. Bluestar's blood drenched his face from the bridge of his nose to the bottom of his chin.

 _I didn't think about it when I was in her den…._

"Fireheart, you have been found guilty of the murder of Bluestar. I—"

"That's not fair! He should be able to speak, at least!" Graystripe yowled, wrenching himself free of Whitestorm's hold. "And you know it!"

"I don't think that this matter concerns you, Graystripe. But if he wants, he can speak." Flattening his ears, Tigerclaw glared icily at the dark gray warrior before returning his gaze to Fireheart. "Well?"

Ears swiveled in the young warrior's direction, and anxious meows dwindled into nothingness. Only the rustling of fresh, green shoots in a newleaf breeze broke the thick silence.

"I…I…." The ginger tom inhaled sharply as Darkstripe's claws penetrated the wounds in his shoulders so deeply, he thought the soot-colored warrior's hooked talons were scraping against the bone. "Didn't…couldn't save her. No one…."

Though he filled his lungs with air, the words refused to come. Muscles aching, he slumped to the ground and closed his eyes. Every breath felt as if an enemy warrior were pummeling his chest.

"Because you can give no defense for your crime, Fireheart, from this day, you are banished from ThunderClan territory." Tigerclaw's words rang in the young warrior's ears. "You'll be allowed to leave our territory, but should you ever return, any ThuderClan warrior who spots you will kill you on sight. Do I make myself clear?"

"No!"

"As for you, Graystripe, Bluestar's words no longer stand. You will join him in exile for your refusal to obey the warrior code," the dark warrior continued. "You should've been banished when we first realized you were a traitor—both of you!"

"But what about my kits?!" the dark gray tom pleaded. "They'll die on their own! Please, just let me stay here! I'm loyal to ThunderClan! Just let me stay with my—!"

"Where were you when we had that battle a couple of moons ago? When your own Clan needed feeding?! You should've known about your loyalties before meeting with that RiverClan she-cat! Now, _get out!_ Darkstripe!"

Fireheart barely flinched at the pulling sting of Darkstripe's claws from his shoulders. Slowly opening his eyes, he struggled to his feet, only for his trembling paws to buckle underneath his own weight. His muzzle hit the ground, but he could not summon the energy to groan at the bruising of his nose. Blood gushed freely from his back and shoulders, leaving splatters of scarlet wherever his forelegs touched the barren soil beneath him. The black tendrils had returned, circling the edges of his vision; cats blurred into undefined streaks of brown, gray, and white.

"Please, can't we help him?!" Cinderpelt's voice cut through the distorted yowls and hisses. "At least give him some herbs?!"

The silence that followed gave Fireheart the answer to his silent prayer.

His paws tingled as if he had stepped on a thistle as he lay in the dirt. For one heartbeat, he felt the sensation of weightlessness before his eyes succumbed to the dizzying darkness.

 _I'm sorry…._


	2. Chapter 2

Tigerclaw gazed upon the throng of cats below him, resisting the urge to sheathe and unsheathe his claws.

 _I can't look nervous…or excited. Not so soon after I've gotten rid of that kittypet. Great StarClan, he looks so much like him…_

The image of the russet-furred tom filled the dark warrior's mind, and the abomination stood before him once again, announcing the code-breaking news:

 _"_ _Cats of ThunderClan, as you know, I am on my last life…"_

 _No!_

Tigerclaw shook his head to rid himself of the sickening memory.

 _I can't think of that right now. It's time for me to rule as leader over ThunderClan. And I'll make sure ThunderClan becomes the strongest in the forest! He'll see! They all will!_

"Tigerclaw!"

A deep yowl echoed across the clearing, snapping the dark tabby from his thoughts. Dustpelt had shoved his way to the center of ThunderClan's camp and now stood panting before the enormous stone.

"What is it, Dustpelt?" the new leader growled. "Did you find another rogue?"

"Brokentail's gone!" the young tabby answered, eyes widened to almost twice their size.

"He must've escaped during the battle." Longtail emerged from the elders' den and approached Tigerclaw's perch. "Yellowfang said something about seeing him fighting alongside the rogues. Maybe it was a rescue attempt?"

A jolt of adrenaline struck the dark warrior, racing from his chest to the bottoms of his paws. Without a word, he leaped off of the leader's stone and padded toward Brokentail's empty nest. Every step caused his toes to tingle with the odd energy, and he resisted the urge to wince at the annoying sensation.

Halting at the mangled scraps of bracken and moss, Tigerclaw gave the air a quick sniff. The stench of ShadowClan, though faint, had mingled with the familiar scent of ThunderClan and the odor of a rogue to create the flat-faced tom's unique smell.

Curling his lips, the dark tabby followed the trail along the edge of the camp toward the nursery. The barely audible squeaks of newborn kits reached his ears as he stalked past the bramble walls. His kits.

 _And Graystripe's HalfClan vermin. As if it weren't enough to invite that kittypet and his nuisance that he has for kin into ThunderClan! …I'll have to do something about them later. Brokentail can't be left wandering in ThunderClan territory. He'll want his reward for being my ally._

Tigerclaw gazed at a gaping hole hidden in the shadow of the nursery. An escape route to the forest surrounding ThunderClan's camp. Tufts of gray fur hung from hooked thorns lining the mouth of the exit, and Graystripe's scent permeated the air.

 _This must have been how Graystripe avoided patrols. We'll need to repair this later._

The dark tabby lowered his head and sniffed the escape route. He had barely inhaled before Brokentail's scent assaulted his nostrils with the lingering stench of ShadowClan. Growling, he shook his head and stared into the forest that lay beyond the breach.

 _Foxdung! Maybe he'll stay hidden until I receive my nine lives. His sense of smell shouldn't be dulled. Still…having a blind rogue wandering around ThunderClan territory…._

"Tigerclaw?" Dustpelt now stood behind the tabby warrior, his voice breaking through the tense murmurs of the Clan. "…He's escaped, hasn't he? We have to go after him! Rid ourselves of that traitor!"

 _Great StarClan, Dustpelt! Why can't you keep quiet?_

"We can't do that now, not with ThunderClan like this," Tigerclaw replied, turning to give his mouthy friend an icy glare before padding back into the center of the clearing. "The rogues caused too much damage for us to leave the camp like this and go searching for Brokentail."

"And Bluestar's vigil is tonight." Whitestorm stepped out of the mass of cats. "I'm saying goodbye to her properly, and I'm sure many of the other warriors feel the same way."

The white tom nodded to the crowd surrounding him.

"Besides, Tigerclaw needs to rest," Darkstripe meowed. "He has to receive his nine lives tomorrow."

Tigerclaw silently leaped onto the great boulder towering over the camp and gazed upon his Clan. As his amber eyes swept over the warriors now under his command, he kept his tail down and his chest fur flat.

 _Keep calm. Don't give them anything. If they see you puffing your chest out now, they'll start to whisper. You don't need any rumors being spread about you, especially not now. Look upset, if not, respectful._

"Cats of ThuderClan," the dark warrior began. "Bluestar was a noble leader who fought for our safety and wellbeing. She served us many moons, and the time has finally come for her to join our ancestors in StarClan. Her vigil will be tonight, and we'll mourn the loss of one of ThunderClan's finest leaders together."

Tigerclaw nodded to Smallear, an ancient, dull gray tom sitting at the front of the crowd. The elder said nothing, only began to hobble toward Bluestar's bloodied corpse. Four cats, each wearing the gray muzzle of old age, silently followed.

As the elders retrieved the body for its preparation, the group of Clan members parted. Wounded warriors followed Yellowfang and Cinderpelt to the medicine den for treatment, and queens rushed into the nursery to soothe their kits. The apprentices disappeared into their den, too exhausted to play, and the warriors who had survived the battle with only a few minor scratches padded toward the thick bush where they slept.

Only Whitestorm remained in the center of the camp, staring sightlessly at the camp's entrance. The tip of his tail twitched as he sat and drank in the harsh scents of the rogues.

"Well?" Tigerclaw rappelled down the leader's rock and approached the senior warrior. "What is it?'

"It doesn't make sense…" the white tom murmured, shaking his head. "Fireheart killing Bluestar like that…after all she did for him. Why?"

"Why wouldn't he? He became a warrior quickly, and he wanted to become deputy. He'd already been trying to speak with Bluestar privately…spread rumors about me. I'm assuming he found out that she was on her last life and planned the attack. He'd been stalking around that Twolegplace often."

"But why Bluestar? Wouldn't he want to come after you first?" Whitestorm shifted his sky-blue gaze to the dark tabby.

"Fireheart knew he could never beat me in an open fight," Tigerclaw answered. "He would have needed to attack when I was distracted or shocked. What better way to surprise me than by killing our leader?"

"It's still strange. I just don't know, Tigerclaw. Something isn't right." The white tom lifted his head to the overcast sky.

Several heartbeats passed as the pair of warriors sat together in the almost deserted clearing. A small gust caught their fur, sinking its frigid claws into their pelts and absorbing the warmth from their skin.

"…Bluestar will be in Silverpelt tonight." Whitestorm's comment came in a deep whisper. "The last of my kin…."

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes at the snow-pelted warrior. Fluffing his pelt against the crisp air, he made his way to Bluestar's den.

 _No,_ my _den. It needs to be cleaned. The fur will be easy enough if I can gather it with the bedding and dump it somewhere outside of the camp, but the blood…. Maybe I can bury it under the sand. There should be enough that isn't stained…._

Before his nose could brush against the lichen curtain of his new resting quarters, he glanced over his shoulder at Whitestorm's motionless figure. The lithe tomcat had not lowered his gaze from the pale gray clouds, but he had closed his eyes.

 _Pleading with StarClan? Or thinking about that kittypet's trial? He isn't willing to believe what I said, but he shouldn't cause any trouble. Whitestorm respects me too much for that. I have seniority over him without counting my position as deputy. But still…I could have Darkstripe watch him for me for the next moon or so._

A draught of Fireheart's warm stench assaulted Tigerclaw's nose, and the dark warrior curled his lips as he turned to face the den's entrance. Resisting the urge to utter a quick insult for any attentive ears to receive, he stalked into the small cavern.

 _It'll take a couple of sunrises at least to get rid of the smell! Maybe it'll clear after I've gotten rid of the old bedding and fur._

Tufts of his own thick pelt lay scattered among the ginger and blue-gray clumps. Stirring from their resting places, they drifted around his massive paws as he approached Bluestar's mangled nest. Drops of blood mingled with the sandy floor, forming scarlet clods that sought to cling to his paw-pads and the bottom of his tail.

"Foxdung!" he muttered, shaking each of his legs before sinking into the scraps of moss and bracken serving as his bedding.

 _I can't let anyone in here before this is cleaned up. If I wake up before the others, I can get rid of everything except for that kittypet's stench._

Closing his eyes, Tigerclaw struggled to ignore the warm, heathery scent permeating the air. Tainted with the sourness of fear, it filled his nostrils with the smell of Bluestar's final moments.

 _"_ _Tigerclaw, what is this?! I'm the leader of your Clan, or have you forgotten that?!"_

Her last words to Tigerclaw before he had sunk his teeth into her throat and reddened his own muzzle with her blood.

 _It's good that kittypet showed up when he did. His blood helped to mask hers, and that stupid choice of his to nuzzle her body was the best thing he's ever done for me. Great StarClan, I wonder how long until his kin starts mouthing about how his mentor would never do such a thing! …Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen that fat apprentice anywhere near camp since sunrise. Maybe he went back to Twolegplace where he belongs…._

Each thought pleaded for his attention like a starving kit crying to be fed, dragging him into the inky depths of blurred futures and dreaded reactions. He had swum in the black river often, searching fervently for the faint ribbon of light that would lead him out of the darkness. The deepest he had ever swum had been immediately after he had murdered Redtail, and even that had been easily covered through coercion and good circumstances, but now—

 _No!_

Inhaling sharply, he opened his eyes and swept his gaze over his newly-acquired den.

 _I can't allow all of this to worry me right now. Not when I haven't even gotten my nine lives. Besides, if I want to convince the rest of the Clan, I need to stay in here for now…clean myself and rest for the vigil._

Tigerclaw rose from his resting place and began grooming his paw, ridding himself of any hint of Bluestar's scent. Swiping his now-clean appendage behind his ear, he felt his muscles begin to loosen. Already, the heathery aroma had started to clear from his nostrils.

 _She's gone, thank StarClan! And I can lead ThunderClan to greatness! We'll be the strongest in the forest, the best-fed among warriors! RiverClan won't dare to touch Sunningrocks, and ShadowClan will keep their reeking pelts on their side of the Thunderpath._

As he continued to wash the blood of his adversaries from his fur, he allowed himself to reenter the depths of his predictions. A dim splotch of light dappled the surface several fox-lengths above him, and he stretched to reach it. Aided by the gentle currents of his planning, he floated toward the life-giving air waiting for him above the waves.

 _"_ _Remember me to StarClan, Bluestar!"_

The final taunt he had given his leader echoed in his mind.

 _Remember me. I'll make this Clan everything you couldn't…and wouldn't..._


	3. Chapter 3

"Hang on, Fireheart! Just a little farther…. I promise!" The slurred voice of the ginger tom's best friend echoed through the hazy blurs of the forest.

 _Graystripe…where…?_

"We'll be out of here soon…. Mouse-dung!"

The unnatural roar of a monster filled the air, drowning Graystripe's voice, and a flash of white and silver shot across Fireheart's line of sight before fading into nothingness. The silence that followed sent a jolt of adrenaline through the injured tom's numbed paws.

Squinting, the ginger warrior struggled to separate the reeking, black stone of the Thunderpath from the grays, browns, and greens of the forest. The streaks and blotches before his eyes only worsened, and he gave a quiet groan.

His shoulders burned as if he had been singed by a forest fire, already beginning to swell. Darkstripe's lack of restraint in pinning him had the potential to kill.

 _If it's not cleaned…infection…. I need…medicine cat…._

"I should've paid attention to where I was going," Graystripe murmured in the stillness following the monster's passing. "We'll have to cross…."

 _He won't make it…too much weight…. He'll trip…. Or…_

"Maybe…not." The words barely climbed from Fireheart's throat, cracking as they left his mouth. "There's a…hole under the…Thunderpath that ShadowClan uses…for going…to Gatherings."

"Which way?" The dark gray tom craned his neck to meet the injured warrior's gaze.

Fireheart said nothing in reply, only turned to face the direction of ShadowClan's tunnel and gave a slight nod.

 _Or…I think…it's that way._

"We can try. Just hold on! I won't let anything happen to you, promise!"

As Graystripe's thick-furred shoulders began to rise and fall with his pawsteps, Fireheart closed his eyes. His wounds flared with each steady jolt of his friend's paws making contact with the leaf-strewn ground. Although unable to face the bright haze of the forest, the ginger tom could not drift into unconsciousness and forget. Two words echoed in his mind, the only thought unhindered by the sting of his wounds:

 _I failed. I failed…._

After what seemed to be three leaf-bares, Graystripe's whisper interrupted the horrid condemnation.

"I see it. Won't be far now."

More jarring vibrations, followed by an echoing hiss and the rank stench of sickness.

"What do you think you're doing?!" a high-pitched voice rasped. "This belongs to ShadowClan, or have you mouse-brained ThunderClan—?!"

"Enough, Oakpaw." The deep-throated whisper of a tom sliced through the apprentice's insult. "What in StarClan…?"

"We need help! Please!" Graystripe's desperate cry rang out in the tunnel. "He's wounded!"

"And why won't ThunderClan take care of its own warriors?" came the answering wheeze of another unknown warrior. "If you can look after Brokenstar—"

"We're not welcome in ThunderClan anymore." Graystripe's words rang out through the dark haze clearly, piercing Fireheart's mind like the hooked claws of an enemy. "Please…. He'll die without a medicine cat!"

"And why should we help you?" the first unknown warrior asked.

 _That voice…_

"Wetfoot…?" the ginger tom whispered, opening his eyes to a blur of gray tabby fur.

"Fireheart," the ShadowClan cat meowed curtly. "You fight well for a ThunderClan warrior. Never saw you until you hauled me off of that traitor-loving leader of yours."

The ShadowClan cat padded toward Fireheart, every breath rattling in his throat. As the blur of tabby fur approached and halted a nose-length from the ThunderClan exiles, the rotten odor of sickness hit the ginger tom's nostrils like a monster crushing an animal in its path. Feverish heat radiated from Wetfoot's scrawny blur, and the tabby warrior swayed unsteadily as he glared at the intruders.

"We're not here to cause trouble," Graystripe pleaded. "You have to believe us!"

"Give me one reason not to claw you both!" Wetfoot hissed, his brittle fur on his back and tail rising.

"Look…if you let your medicine cat heal Fireheart, I'll…I'll hunt for you!"

"You'll hunt on our territory…for us?!" the ShadowClan warrior chuckled as he spat out the words. "You're volunteering to steal—!"

"I won't hunt ShaowClan prey." Graystripe's shoulders tensed beneath Firehert, and the ginger tom winced at the movement. "I promise. Please!"

Wetfoot said nothing, only turned to face the other warrior accompanying him, a brown tabby tom.

"Leave your friend with us," the unfamiliar warrior rasped. "We'll wait here until you bring back fresh-kill."

 _No! I can't…let him go back!_

"Graystripe…." Fireheart could barely force the words out of his mouth. "Don't."

"Don't worry about me," his best friend replied. "You need help. You'll die without this!"

"But he'll—!"

"I'll be quick," Graystripe answered, lowering his shoulders so that Fireheart began to slide off of his back.

The ginger tom inhaled sharply as his body made contact with the slick grass lining the Thunderpath. His scratches shrieked in protest, and their feverish sting blazed over his skin like a fire through the forest. Every muscle ached, reminding him of the brutal beating that he had received at the hooked claws of his adversary.

 _It's…over. ThunderClan's done._

Fireheart sighed shakily through his nose as the thrumming of Graystripe's paws against the ground announced the warrior's departure. After a few heartbeats, they faded into silence broken only by the ShadowClan cats' wheezing.

"What if that mouse-brain doesn't bring us any prey, Stumpytail?" Wetfoot's voice finally broke the forest's stillness.

The roar of a passing monster on the Thunderpath filled Fireheart's ears, and he resisted the urge to moan at what seemed to be its distorted battlecry.

"We'll kill him," the brown tabby answered curtly.

"But…what about the warrior code? We don't have to kill to win this fight. Why waste our time when—?"

"Does the code say anything about rat plague?!" Stumpytail spat, unsheathing his claws. "Great StarClan, we're starving enough as it is. If the other Clans found out…."

"They'd drive us out like we did WindClan," Wetfoot finished.

"Besides, this one's a kittypet, anyway." The brown tabby flicked his tail at Fireheart. "It's not like we're killing another warrior."

Fireheart flinched at Stumpytail's insult. Rumors of him had spread to the other Clans since his first Gathering, and though he had helped to drive out Brokenstar from a failing ShadowClan and return Windclan to safety, he had never been able to rid himself of his label.

 _Kittypet…. Kittypet…._

The word reverberated inside of his skull, ringing in the high-pitched murmurs of a group of elders…a litter of kits…a throng of warriors in the ThunderClan camp.

 _If…I had been born in…the forest, would they…have believed me?_

He knew that he did not have to ask the question; the answer dug itself from its burial pit at the back of his mind. Closing his eyes, the ginger tom fervently searched the abyss of his thoughts for the crow-food that would never be discarded. That would always reek at Gatherings and poison kits, warriors, and leaders with its sickly-sweet flesh of which all Clan cats chose to partake.

The warrior code's final law echoed in his head: _"A warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet."_

 _It…wouldn't have mattered. Nothing…._

But the ache of exhaustion silenced him before he could finish the sentence.

* * *

 _Fireheart stood before the lifeless heap of blue-gray fur, shaking his head. Wraith-like tendrils of fog circled his legs, obscuring anything but the black, skinny trunks of trees surrounding him. The battlecries of his Clan permeated the air, deep and distorted by the eerie woodland._

 _"_ _Get up!" he cried, his voice rising above the clamor. "Bluestar, please! PLEASE!"_

 _But her body did not reply, did not even twitch. His leader lay slain in the forest._

And I couldn't do anything about it….

 _"_ _Couldn't…or didn't?" Tigerclaw's taunting snarl rang out from behind him._

 _"_ _What do you want, traitor?!" the ginger tom hissed, leaping to face the dark warrior._

 _"_ _I want to thank you, kittypet."_

 _"_ _For what?!" Fireheart arched his back and spat at the dark warrior._

 _"_ _For failing," Tigerclaw cooly replied as he sprang at the ginger tom and caught him by the throat with his needle-like fangs._

 _Fireheart twisted in the dark tabby's grip, claws unsheathed. As he frantically flailed in the death hold, the air in his lungs rushed out of his nose and mouth. Giving a silent screech, he glanced at the skeletal trees from which the yowls of battle continued._

Help! Please!

 _But he could not find even the tip of a tail or a pair of ears in the thick mist. Already he was gasping for the precious air that he could not breathe. Already his eyes were succumbing to the black void of unconsciousness…._

* * *

"Fireheart! Can you hear me? Please, don't die! Great StarClan—!"

"Graystripe, you're not helping him when you yell like that. He needs rest." A familiar voice interrupted the gray warrior's desperate cries. "…It's good that you brought him to me. His wounds are pretty deep. If you'd have waited or tried going out on your own without help, they would've become badly infected. Great StarClan, I've seen some wounds, but this…."

A quick sniffle followed the cat's reply.

 _I know who that is!_

"Runningnose?" Fireheart slowly opened his eyes to a scrawny, gray-and-white tom. "…Where am I?"

He allowed his gaze to wander around the chamber of stone, curling his lips at the pungent scent of herbs stored in small crevices in the rock. Although the familiar smell of a medicine den filled his nostrils, this area lacked the springy grass and shimmering pool of the crevice where ThunderClan's medicine cat resided. Bare ground greeted him instead, dotted only by a few clumps of damp moss in the shadowed corners. A sparse covering of ferns, browned by leaf-bare's chill, sat at the entrance, quivering in the slight breeze.

"Fireheart," the gray-and-white cat wheezed, whipping his head away from the ginger tom. After a sharp sneeze, he turned to face his patient. "How do you feel? Are you hot?"

"I…." The ginger tom winced as the sharp burning in his shoulders began to return. "I don't think so."

"You've been through a lot," Runningnose murmured. "If it weren't for your friend, you'd— You're lucky he brought you here. He stays here when he's not out hunting."

The ShadowClan medicine cat cast his rheumy eyes upon a bedraggled Graystripe. The thick-furred ThunderClan warrior stood behind Runningnose, amber eyes widened to the size of moons.

"We didn't know if you were going to wake up…." Graystripe whispered. "You were mumbling stuff that didn't make sense by the time I got back from ThunderClan."

"I was afraid fever was setting in." Runningnose turned away from his patient and shuffled toward his medical stores. "You were twitching quite a bit in your sleep. Are you sure you're not warm?"

The medicine cat's sightless gaze seemed to burn into Fireheart's pelt, and the ginger tom shifted in his nest of moss and bracken, clenching his teeth as the sharp sting of his wounds flared for a few heartbeats before settling into a dull burn.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Runningnose," Fireheart answered, giving a hoarse purr.

"Get some more rest, if you can," the gray-and-white tomcat gently replied. "And please let me know if you feel warm at all. Or cold."

"I will, thanks."

Fireheart allowed all of his muscles to relax and lowered his head to the downy moss of his nest. Sighing through his nose, he closed his eyes.

 _It was just a nightmare. Maybe this whole thing isn't real. It doesn't feel like it, anyway._

But he knew that he would not open his eyes to the ThunderClan warriors' den and his friends.

 _Graystripe, Whitestorm, Sandstorm…._

The memory of the pale ginger she-cat walking at his side filled his mind. Mouth laden with a pair of freshly-killed voles, she had locked her gaze with his. Her leaf-green eyes had shown with warmth, admiration….

 _Maybe even love?_

He shook his head, allowing the golden past to fade into nothingness.

 _It doesn't matter anymore. The Clan believes Tigerclaw—maybe Tigerstar by now._

"Fireheart?"

The sharp jab in his flank jolted him out of his drifting. Graystripe stood over him, muscles tensed beneath his thick, dark gray fur.

"Fireheart, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the ginger tom replied. "…How long have I been asleep?"

"You were out for the night. It's about sunhigh now." Graystripe nodded at the pale beams of sunlight filtering through the medicine den's entrance.

"They've had her vigil."

"Probably," came the answer.

"And Tigerclaw's on his way to get his nine lives," he murmured, lowering his gaze to the bedding beneath him.

"Graystripe!" Wetfoot's raspy voice pierced the stillness of the medicine den. The gray tabby sat at the entrance, blocking the sun's pale light. "Are you coming or not?"

"I have to go. Why don't you try to get some more sleep? Maybe I'll be able to bring you a vole…or a frog. They're actually not as bad as you—"

"Graystripe!"

"Coming!" the dark gray tom called, racing out of the dark crevice and into ShadowClan's sunlit camp. Halting as the light hit his muzzle, he glanced over his shoulder at the wounded warrior. "Goodbye, Fireheart. I'll be back soon."

As his best friend bounded toward Wetfoot's half-starved figure, Fireheart closed his eyes and shifted himself to face the chamber's stony wall. Only Runningnose's occasional sneezes and coughs interrupted the silence of the medicine den. Not even the usual sounds of camp life reached the ginger tom's ears.

 _Strange how quiet it is. And why did Graystripe have to head out at sunhigh? Doesn't ShadowClan share tongues?_

The act of grooming fellow Clanmates at the warmest time of the day was an unspoken tradition. Breaking it would only happen if—

 _If something's wrong. Stumpytail mentioned a rat plague. What if…._

Fireheart never finished the thought. The senseless darkness of sleep had come, and he could do nothing to resist it.

* * *

A quick note:

Hey, guys! I'd like to thank you for the support this book has received! I've appreciated your feedback very much! This book will switch back and forth from Fireheart and Tigerclaw's points of view, with maybe a few bonus POVs here and there ;). Thank you again for showing your support!

-LGraceT :)


	4. Chapter 4

Tigerclaw stood at the edge of ThunderClan's territory, thick fur buffeted by the chilly breeze. The vast sea of grass that WindClan called its territory rippled underneath the pale light of the sun, the only barrier between him and the Moonstone.

 _Soon, StarClan will give me nine lives, and I'll be leader._

He resisted the urge to give a deep-throated purr as he stared into the stretch of ground separating him from his leadership of ThunderClan. By the next sunhigh, he would return to the camp as Tigerstar, and no cat would dare to question him then. Once a leader had his lives, challenging warriors had a lower chance to succeed against him.

 _"_ _That is, if they accept you."_

The still voice had plagued him since the sun had begun to transform the deep purple of the night sky into a menagerie of rosy pinks, oranges, and yellows. Bluestar's vigil had lasted as long as Silverpelt had hung above the camp before the elders had dragged her cold, stiff body to be buried. Her spirit had already parted the forest and now shone as a new star among thousands, perhaps millions, of former leaders and warriors, kits and elders.

 _"_ _Remember me to StarClan, Bluestar!"_

His words echoed in his mind, filling him with the memory of his former leader's final moments…the burning glare of defiance that she had given him before he had delivered the death blow.

 _What if…what if she did remember me to StarClan? And what if she's convinced the others that I shouldn't be leader with her lies?_

He shook his head and inhaled deeply, allowing the crisp morning air to fill his lungs.

 _StarClan won't reject me! They_ can't! _After all, Brokentail received his nine lives, and he killed Raggedstar…though ShadowClan's a bunch of fox-hearts, anyway._

The dark warrior growled as Yellowfang interrupted his thoughts and the stillness of the morning with her deep huffs. Each breath seemed obnoxiously louder than the last as she padded at her creeping pace at least five fox-lengths behind him.

 _Hurry up! We don't have the whole day!_

The tip of his tail twitched as he turned to watch the medicine cat continue to take her sluggish steps toward him.

 _I need to get back to camp before one of the others finds Brokentail! Why did I have to be stuck with a medicine cat who should've retired—no, died—moons ago?!_

"The Moonstone's been there for generations; I'm sure it won't disappear in one day," Yellowfang meowed curtly as she approached him. "We have plenty of time."

Tigerclaw narrowed his eyes at her, resisting the urge to give her a quick swipe across the muzzle.

 _I can't look too eager to get to the Moonstone. She's already a friend of that kittypet. If I look too worried about getting this done quickly, she'll start to wonder about it. I already have enough trouble with Brokentail, as it is._

Ignoring the elderly medicine cat, he made his way out of the sheltering oaks and pines of the forest. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as he began to trek through the dry, yellowish-brown grasses. Exposed to a pale blue sky unfiltered by trees or cloud cover, the dark warrior could not help but glance at the endless expanse to check for the black outline of a hawk. Although nothing circled above him, the intense light jabbed at his eyes, and he whipped his head away from the sunlight. Blinking, Tigerclaw hissed as dark splotches of green and blue danced across his vision.

"Foxdung!" he snarled as he waited for the swirling nuisances to settle.

His ears caught the raspy muttering of his medicine cat behind him, but the words drifted to him in unintelligible gibberish.

 _Maybe an insult about me. Great StarClan, if it weren't for ThunderClan adoring her, I'd have exiled her with the kittypet and his RiverClan-loving friend!_

"We might meet a WindClan patrol, but they shouldn't bother us," Yellowfang murmured, quickening her pace. "As long as we don't provoke them, we should have a peaceful journey."

Tigerclaw locked eyes with her for a few heartbeats before giving her a curt nod.

 _Is that just small talk, or an accusation? …It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than bicker with an elder; it will only make me look defensive._

Neither of the cats spoke as they continued their journey through the moorland. Tigerclaw had now slowed his pace to allow Yellowfang to pass in front of him, and he followed the old she-cat through the grass. Giving the air a quick sniff, he scanned the horizon for any sign of scrawny WindClan warriors.

 _Maybe that's why they're so weak. There's nothing out here but a few rabbits…._

A sharp gust of wind hit his muzzle, filling his nostrils with the scent of—

 _ThunderClan! I smell ThunderClan! …But that's impossible! We're too far from the border, and the wind's blowing the wrong way._

"Do you smell that?" he asked.

"Smell what?" Yellowfang paused and lifted her nose to the sky. After a few brief snuffles, the flat-faced she-cat turned to face him. "A WindClan patrol passed by here a little while ago. Probably out hunting rabbits."

"No, that's not— Never mind. I must be confused," Tigerclaw replied, opening his mouth to taste the current of air.

 _She's right; a WindClan patrol did pass by, but…._

"We should be out of WindClan soon. The air around Highstones should clear out your nose." The medicine cat swung her head forward and continued her agonizingly slow pace through the dry grass.

Grunting in reply, the dark tabby followed.

 _But…I know this scent!_

As the heathery aroma filled his lungs, he shook his head. One name echoed in his mind…sending a jolt of adrenaline through his spine and into his paws. Every step pricked his tingling paw-pads, and he struggled to refrain from wincing as his feet made contact with the ground.

 _Must be the wind carrying the scent from Highstones. I'm just not used to being out here in the open. How in the name of StarClan does WindClan live out here, anyway?_

But the smell lingered, only strengthening with each fox-length as he continued to follow his medicine cat across WindClan's territory. Tainted with the tang of blood, it burned his nose.

 _Maybe that hunting patrol made a kill here. We're in the middle of WindClan's territory, and there's probably a warren nearby._

A hawk's cry pierced the air, and the dark warrior's ears twitched. Stiffening, he raised his muzzle to the sky. For a few heartbeats, he stared into the endless blue void before allowing his muscles to relax.

 _Sounds like it's farther away._

Tigerclaw lowered his head and glanced at Yellowfang. The mangy she-cat had halted a few fox-lengths ahead of him, her own sickly-yellow eyes lifted to the sky.

"Hawk," she murmured before resuming her sluggish pawsteps. "Too far away to notice us, but we shouldn't stay out here."

The dark tabby did not reply, only turned to face the source of the bird's shrieking call. WindClan's flat territory stretched toward the horizon, broken by sparse patches of dry gorse. A pair of sparrows launched themselves into the air from a distant clump of the thorny shrubs, and Tigerclaw unsheathed the long, arcing weapons for which he had been named as its occupant stepped into view.

 _No! That's impossible!_

A blue-gray she-cat stood among the distant grasses, glaring at him with glazed, sky-blue eyes. Flecks of blazing-white starlight blanketed her soft, youthful fur, and her lean figure displayed the well-muscled body of a warrior in her prime of moons.

But one flaw marred her appearance. A stream of blood trickled from the she-cat's throat, mingling with the ground beneath her starry paws. Its burning tang assaulted Tigerclaw's nostrils…drowned his thoughts with one word. One name.

 _Bluestar!_

The dark warrior resisted the urge to curl his lips and hiss at the former leader of ThunderClan. Locking eyes with her, he continued to follow Yellowfang through WindClan's territory.

 _You're not real. Besides, even if you were, you couldn't force StarClan to turn me away._

He flicked his tail at the apparition before turning his back to her, though his neck fur bristled with cold…or….

 _You always were a mouse-heart, Bluestar. Nothing's going to change._

The thrumming of paws against the ground echoed in Tigerclaw's ears, and he whipped his head toward the racing rhythm. Bluestar's lithe form charged across the moor, tail raised to the sky…claws unsheathed.

 _What in StarClan are you doing?!_

Tigerclaw leaped to face her, a deep growl beginning to rise in his throat. Parting his jaws to reveal his needle-like teeth, he lunged at the translucent she-cat. His claws snagged upon nothing but empty air, and he landed on quivering paws. Intense heat coursed through his skin as he caught a glimpse of his opponent's blue-gray fur rushing past his right flank.

 _Fox-dung!_

The dark warrior whirled to his right, staring into the cold gaze of his former leader. Her sides barely rose and fell with her breaths, as if she had awakened from a dreamless rest.

 _Great StarClan! Can I even kill a dead warrior?!_

As Bluestar silently advanced upon him, Tigerclaw stiffened. Every muscle, every thought had frozen. Only her pale fangs filled his vision as she sprang at his throat. Weapons eager to stain themselves with his blood….

 _Move!_

The single command rang in his head, but his paws did not lift themselves from the ground. As Bluestar's frigid spirit made contact with his throat, he growled, awaiting the suffocating sting of her teeth puncturing his windpipe.

But it never came.

Gasping for breath, Tigerclaw turned to face the apparition now standing behind him. The blue-gray she-cat said nothing intelligible, only curled her lips and hissed before fading into nothingness. A chilly breeze swept the remaining mist of her soul into oblivion, leaving the dark warrior panting on the moor.

"Are you…all right?" Yellowfang's sickly-yellow gaze swept upon him.

 _Great StarClan! Did she see?!_

"Yes," he answered before craning his neck upward to stare into the sky. "We'd better keep moving. I don't want to risk fighting a hawk."

 _Even if she did, I have to act like nothing happened. One cat can't prove anything. That kittypet learned that._

The ancient medicine cat narrowed her eyes at him. After a heartbeat, she turned to face the horizon and continued her sluggish trek, ears pricked. As she shuffled through the grasses, Tigerclaw silently followed.

The scent lingered in his nostrils, burning his nose with the reek of ThunderClan blood as he trekked behind Yellowfang. Shaking his head, he stared at the line of jagged peaks on the horizon.

 _We're almost there. By moonhigh, I'll be Tigerstar, and even Bluestar won't be able to do a thing about it…._


	5. Chapter 5

Fireheart stared sightlessly at the entrance to the medicine den, bathed in the blood-red light of the sun's dying rays. His heart pulsed languidly as he waited for the night to envelop ShadowClan's camp in darkness. For the moon to rise above the open roof of the distant cavern in Highstones….

 _He's probably waiting to touch the Moonstone right now._

The memory of his first visit to the giant, glimmering formation that allowed cats to speak with their ancestors flashed before him. He had been given the honor of following his former leader into Mothermouth's gaping entrance to accompany her during the night. Before they had arrived at the Moonstone, he had heard the scrabbling of paws against the well-worn rock and had craned his neck to watch Tigerclaw's hulking form race out of the tunnels and toward the entrance.

The ginger tom shuddered as images of the dark warrior filled his head, and the puncturing sting of Tigerclaw's fangs sinking into his throat returned. Tucking his chin to his chest to cover his exposed neck, he closed his eyes.

"Fireheart?" The familiar voice echoed in the stillness of the small cavern. "You're awake. Want some fresh-kill?"

The ginger tom opened his eyes to a pair of blazing-yellow pools of light staring into the medicine den from the entrance. As Graystripe approached, Fireheart slowly stood, inhaling sharply through his teeth at the burning sting of his wounds.

"You sure you should be standing up?"

"I'm fine," the young warrior answered, though his paws quivered beneath his weight. "Just tired."

"Are you hungry?" Graystripe asked. "I've been out on hunting patrols all day, so there should be plenty of—"

"Graystripe." The raspy greeting of ShadowClan's medicine cat caused the dark gray warrior to pause. "Welcome. How was the hunting?"

Fireheart turned to face Runningnose as the bony, gray-and-white tom emerged from a nearby crevice. Brittle fur standing in spiky clumps on his shoulders and back, the rheumy-eyed newcomer rushed to meet the visitor to his den.

"The prey's been running well today; Wetfoot and I went out and caught a few voles at the Burnt Sycamore."

"Wetfoot? He shouldn't be out! If he doesn't stop doing this, his fever will only get worse!" Runningnose sighed and shook his head. "If he'd listen to his medicine cat, he might be feeling better by now. Great StarClan, I don't need any more sick warriors…. Have you been feeling well, Graystripe? No coughs or sneezes?"

"None at all," came the reply. "Thank you, Runningnose."

"And you, Fireheart?" the gray-and-white tom whispered, sniffling. "Anything?"

"No. I feel fine."

The ShadowClan medicine cat narrowed his eyes at his patient before approaching him and placing a feverish, palsied paw on his fiery flank. Shuddering as the dreaded burn ravaged his shoulders, Fireheart closed his eyes and drew deep breaths through his nose. The sense of weightlessness overcame him, followed by another wave of agony as his body hit the ground.

"Fireheart!"

"It'd be best not to touch him for now. Why don't we let him rest for a bit and then try moving him to his nest?" Runningnose murmured, a shaky sigh trailing his words.

"What did you—?!"

"I need to apply another poultice to his wounds, but I left the herbs in storage because…. Graystripe, could you wait here with him? I need to fetch marigold and feverfew. No, marigold and burdock…."

A quiet moan echoed from the far side of the cavern, followed by a fit of hacking coughs: Runningnose's newest patient. The small, bony tabby had stumbled into the medicine den barely after sunhigh, brittle fur reeking of disease and pale blue eyes widened to almost twice their size. Fireheart winced as the ShadowClan warrior's glazed stare filled his mind.

 _Great StarClan, how did he get that sick?! Is is leafbare greencough?_

The ThunderClan tom had never survived a leafbare during his time spent with the Clans. Though he had listened to elders reflect upon their memories of the fatal greencough that often plagued camps during the prey-scarce moons of leafbare, the worst sickness that he had ever experienced had been a cough brought upon an apprentice that had slept underneath a leak in the sleeping den.

 _"_ _Remember the leafbare WindClan lost five cats to greencough? One of them was a young apprentice."_

Patchpelt's raspy musings echoed in Fireheart's mind, and the image of a pair of gaunt warriors staring sightlessly into the yellow grasses of the moor flashed before him. Behind them lay a large tangle of twisted brambles that did little to muffle the final gasps of a dying apprentice. Every heartbeat pounded in the ginger tomcat's ears as the shallow breaths faded into the dreaded silence. A medicine cat emerged from the swathe of thorns, every rib visible through his brittle pelt as he approached the larger of the warriors and shook his head….

The young warrior opened his eyes, but the yowl of a mentor that had lost his apprentice rang in his ears.

 _Apprentice._

A tingling chill rushed into his chest, spreading along his back and into his paws. He shuddered at the pricking of his fur rising to combat the cold before clenching his teeth as the sting of his wounds intensified.

 _But Cloudpaw could get worse than this from Tigerclaw—Tigerstar now—if he returns to camp. Where is he? I had to leave him when…._

Fireheart stared sightlessly through the entrance of the medicine den at the purpling sky. The tangy stench of blood had already assaulted his nostrils, and he slowly exhaled to force it out of his airway.

 _Maybe he's in Twolegplace with Princess. We were hunting near there when I scented Tigerclaw and the rogues._

His mind spun as he raced through ThunderClan's camp entrance once again. A thick haze surrounded him, presenting only blurs of screeching cats charging into battle, and he squinted into the chaos. A flash of a snow-white lump of fur or the plume-like tail that Cloudpaw always carried upright would confirm the apprentice's location.

 _Or a— No! He couldn't have. Could he?_

"His wounds reopened." Runningnose's raspy sigh yanked the ginger tom from his memories. "I'll need some cobweb to stop the bleed— Great StarClan, I used the last of it on Stumpytail when…. I need to gather more herbs. Graystripe, could you please help him into his nest?"

The quick, light thudding of paws against the ground filled Fireheart's ears as the medicine cat hurried toward the cavern's entrance. A low-pitched moan sounded from the nest occupied by the sick warrior, and Runningnose stiffened. For a few heartbeats, he stood in front of the gaping mouth leading into ShadowClan's camp, ears pricked. His tail-tip twitched with every shallow breath drawn by his small tabby patient.

As the ShadowClan warrior's raspy breaths deepened, Runningnose gave a final shaky sigh before exiting his den. Heartbeats passed, each throb pulsing through Fireheart's body. His shoulders, though feverishly warm, no longer stung, and he began to stand, wincing at the ache of his torn flesh. Before his quivering paws could buckle beneath him, Graystripe's thick-furred shoulder pressed against his own.

"I've got you," the dark gray tom whispered. "Just a couple of steps…."

Nodding, Fireheart limped forward, leaning against his friend. As he sank into the mossy bedding of his nest, he lifted his gaze to the medicine den's entry way.

The sky had now darkened to the purplish-black of night, and the warriors of Silverpelt had begun to fleck the dark void. A small star sat in the middle of the emptiness, pulsing with a brilliant white light.

 _Maybe it's Bluestar. Or even…._

"Graystripe, did you see Cloudpaw?"

"What?"

"In the battle." Fireheart winced at the rasp embedded in his words. "I lost him on the way back to camp. When…when Tigerclaw…. I didn't see him anywhere."

"I didn't either," Graystripe answered, shaking his head.

"Do you think—?"

"I doubt he was killed. This is Cloudpaw, after all. Remember, he did lead a little patrol out of camp in the middle of a blizzard. Caught a shrew, too. At least, that's what I heard from his bragging." The thick-furred warrior gave an amused purr. "Your kin's quite…outspoken."

 _He is, and that's what scares me._

From the sunrise that Fireheart had brought him into ThunderClan, Cloudpaw had received dark glares and snide comments from the forest-born warriors…and had developed a tongue that could start a forest fire in a heartbeat. Few, if any, of the snow-white tom's Clanmates had refused to hide their disdain for his heritage and attitude. Tigerclaw especially had eagerly growled harsh comments at Fireheart's kin, encouraged by Cloudpaw's own retorts.

 _If he says or does anything that Tigerclaw thinks is a threat, he'll try to kill him._

The memory of the young warrior's near-drowning flashed in his mind, and the rough, bitter taste of muddy water filled his mouth. He had nearly fallen off of an unstable log and into the stream separating ThunderClan's territory from Fourtrees—after being instructed to crawl onto it by the dark tabby.

 _And we were on patrol. If he'll try to drown me in front of two other cats, what'll he do to Cloudpaw?_

"I hope he's all right," Fireheart murmured. "I should've gone back for him. If I hadn't left him there by himself…."

"You were barely alive by the time we left. And Cloudpaw wouldn't believe you'd just abandon him. I'm sure he's fine," Graystripe replied, turning to face the medicine den's entrance. "He's strong like his mentor."

But the dark gray tom's final words blurred into an unintelligible string of sound as Fireheart began to close his eyes. Every muscle ached as though he had carried a badger on his back since sunup, and his stinging shoulders had begun to swell. Sighing through his nose, the young warrior stared sightlessly at the single star hanging in the night sky.

 _Please let Cloudpaw be all right. Please!_

A wave of coughs erupted from the sick warrior, breaking the stillness like a cat's weight on melting river ice. Two pale blue pools of light shone in the darkness, and Fireheart felt the tingling of fur rising along the back of his neck as the stench of crow-food and sickness assaulted his nostrils.

"Ru…Runningnose?" the small tabby managed to wheeze before another spasm seized his body.

"He's not here," Fireheart answered. "I think he had to go out. I'm sorry."

"Wait…." The ShadowClan cat narrowed his rheumy eyes at the ginger tom. "I…know you. You're…you're…Fireheart…from ThunderClan. What…?"

"We're not welcome in ThuderClan anymore." Graystripe stepped in front of the young warrior's nest. "Is there anything I can get you…?"

"Littlecloud," came the breathless reply. "I'm…Littlecloud."

"Do you need any fresh-kill?"

"I'm not…hungry. Just need…some poppy seeds. I think…that's what…Runningnose….gives me." Littlecloud shivered, his dull fur rising along his spine. "But…I can get them…myself."

Every rib showed beneath the ShadowClan warrior's brittle pelt as he heaved himself out of his nest. Tottering on spindly legs, he stumbled across the stone floor before lurching forward and collapsing.

"Here, I'll fetch them for you."

As Graystripe approached Littlecloud, a frustrated hiss emerged in reply from the fallen tom, followed by a slight nod.

"Little…black seeds. They should be…somewhere…to the…left."

After a couple of heartbeats, the dark gray tomcat squeezed into the crevice leading to Runningnose's stash of herbs and disappeared. Littlecloud's labored breaths echoed in the medicine den, their strained rhythm conjuring images of blood-soaked battlefields, screeching victims, and Tigerclaw emerging from the leader's den, thick-furred muzzle drenched with crimson liquid.

 _"_ _Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting."_

The dark tabby's deep growl rang in Fireheart's mind, and the young warrior shuddered as a line of Thuderclan's cats passed before his sight, each one bearing the mark of Tigerclaw's claws on his body, each one stumbling as their lifeblood pooled onto the ground beneath them. Among them stood a snow-white apprentice, face marred by a single claw-mark racing from his forehead to the tip of his muzzle.

 _Cloudpaw!_

Fireheart shook his head, exhaling deeply as the image faded. Heart thudding rapidly in his chest, he lifted his gaze to the lone star and breathed a final prayer:

 _Please…please…just keep him safe! Great StarClan, keep my kin safe!_


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you ready?"

Tigerclaw stared into the gaping entrance to Mothermouth at Yellowfang, struggling to keep his tail-tip from twitching as it had on the agonizingly sluggish journey to Highstones. The mangy she-cat stood only a couple of tail lengths in front of him, eyes narrowed as she met his own amber gaze.

 _She can't prove anything. And once I've gotten my lives—_

"If _you get your lives,"_ the still voice replied.

 _No!_

The dark warrior unsheathed his claws and sank them into the stony soil.

 _I'm not going to turn around when I'm so close. I need to get this over with before someone finds Brokentail! Besides, running would only make that elder more wary of me than she already is. I don't need her gossiping with the warriors, especially if I don't return in time._

Filling his lungs with the crisp air of Highstones, he retracted his weapons and gave Yellowfang a small nod.

"Yes." He never broke contact with the pair of sickly-yellow eyes. "I am."

"Then, let's go. StarClan's waiting," the medicine cat murmured before padding into the depths of the cavern, her deep huffs echoing in the stillness.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her, Tigerclaw followed her into the frigid depths of the cave that housed the Moonstone. As the never-ceasing blackness engulfed him, another surge of tingling energy coursed into his paws. The pounding of his own heartbeat filled his ears, and he winced as images of his most recent visit to the sacred meeting place flashed before him. The faces of his company on that journey now appeared before him as if he had made the trip only a sunrise ago.

 _Bluestar had to take those apprentices with us. That traitorous Graystripe…and that coward Ravenpaw. Why did I have to be stuck with such a mouse-hearted runt?!_

The dark warrior stifled a growl at the memory of the scrawny, black apprentice. Always stuttering and tripping over himself or others, Ravenpaw had never seemed to try to learn how to fight or hunt properly.

 _And he never understood that sometimes, things have to be done for the good of the Clan. That kittypet only started sticking his nose where it didn't belong after being around Ravenpaw. The best thing that coward did was die in that fight with ShadowClan. And, of course, Bluestar had to bring her precious kittypet. If she hadn't taken them with us, I could have fixed the problem on the way. Dragging her body back to camp wouldn't have been ideal, but…._

The sweeping tingle of the stone walls against his whiskers yanked him from his thoughts, and he silently inhaled through his nose. Unseen rock began to press against his flanks, scrape against his back. Clenching his teeth, he continued to make his way down the sloping tunnel.

An uncomfortable wave of heat washed over him as a faint beam of pale light illuminated Yellowfang's unkempt figure in front of him, and he took another draught of air as the burning sensation flooded his muzzle. He had felt it on his previous trip to the Moonstone…and the sensation of his paws skidding against the smooth, damp floor of the cave before spinning him around and carrying him back into the barren hills of Highstones. Once again, his pace had begun to slow, each step plagued by the odd tingling.

Shaking his head, he forced his legs to continue to propel him toward the brightening crevice that led to the physical connector between the Clans and their ancestors.

 _I'll make ThunderClan victorious. Once I've returned as leader, the others won't dare disrespect us! We'll have the strongest warriors in the forest!_

Tigerclaw stepped into the large cavern, squinting as his eyes met the nearly blinding glow of the Moonstone. The enormous crystal sat in the middle of the chamber, an ancient giant that had stood before the Clans had existed and that would continue to watch over the forest for moons after every forest-born cat faded into nothingness.

"Lie down and touch it with your nose." Yellowfang had now crouched at the base of the Moonstone, her own muzzle only a mouse-length away from its smooth surface.

 _Does she think I'm that stupid? Great StarClan, I know what to do!_

Drawing a final breath, he slowly approached the crystal and kneeled a mouse-length away from the elderly she-cat.

 _I don't want whatever's hidden in that pelt of hers._

As soon as the tip of his nose made contact with the frigid, translucent rock, he felt a sensation of weightlessness before his vision darkened. For a few heartbeats, he lay in the black stillness….

 _Has StarClan refused me?_

The dark warrior opened his eyes to the towering oaks of Fourtrees. Above him, Silverpelt glittered in the clear night sky, pulsing to an ancient rhythm unknown to any Clan cat. The Great Rock jutted from its position two fox-lengths away from him, a pale glow seeming to emanate from the scratches and cracks that adorned it.

"How…how am I—?"

"Greetings Tigerclaw," a deep voice meowed.

 _I know that voice!_

"S…Sunstar?" Tigerclaw's eyes widened as the pale ginger tabby leaped from the once-barren Great Rock and landed in front of him.

The leader's pelt blazed with a swirling pattern of bone-white flecks of starlight, and his golden-yellow eyes glimmered with the ferocity of a member of LionClan. As the pair of fiery moons locked with Tigerclaw's own amber pools of light, the dark tabby resisted the urge to shudder.

The broad-shouldered warrior winced at the tingling sensation along his back, and he craned his neck to glance at the thick fur standing stiffly on his spine. Inhaling deeply, he turned to face Sunstar.

"And the others?" Tigerclaw swept his gaze over the empty clearing, scanning the surrounding undergrowth for a starlit pelt, a pair of ears, the tip of a translucent tail.

"They're close," the ginger tabby answered, tilting his head toward the star-flecked void.

The clean scent of ice mingled with the aroma of newleaf's growth filled Tigerclaw's nostrils, and he stiffened as he stared upward into the purplish-black sky. Leaders, elders, queens, and warriors stalked from their home among the stars, each of their pawsteps leaving bluish-white prints that marked their winding paths. A couple of star-flecked kits tumbled from Silverpelt, locked in a playful tussle before bowling into a midnight-black apprentice.

 _Ravenpaw?  
_ The dark warrior's shoulders locked as the young cat took his place among the assembly now lining the hollow. Narrowing his eyes at the apparition, he allowed his muscles to relax as soon as he caught a glimpse of the pair of ice-blue eyes focusing upon a silver tabby she-cat standing on the other side of the clearing.

 _It's not him. He had green eyes…or I think he did. It never really mattered…. Bluestar and Redtail aren't here, either, but—_

"Are you ready to receive your nine lives?"

Tigerclaw blinked before turning to face Sunstar.

"I am," he replied, taking a step toward the ginger tabby.

Sunstar said nothing in reply, only gave a curt nod and joined the throng of StarClan cats lining the hollow. A silver-gray tom quickly took his place, plume-like tail raised in greeting.

 _Featherwhisker._

Several moons had passed since the name had last entered Tigerclaw's thoughts, and he stiffened as the old Thunderclan medicine cat began to lean toward him. Memories of the dark warrior's kithood sprang from the abysmal crevices of his mind, filled with the ravings of Featherwhisker's mentor, Goosefeather. The speckled medicine cat, sharing the silver pelt and thick fur of his apprentice, could never glance at Tigerclaw without a horrified screech that could be heard across the camp. Even after Featherwhisker had quieted the elderly tom, the shrill wails had often followed Tigerclaw into his nightmares.

Unsheathing his claws, he scanned the clearing for the condescending sky-blue eyes and plump form of his tormentor.

 _If I had been a warrior when that senile mouse-brain—_

"With this life, I give you the gift of compassion."

Tigerclaw's eyes widened as images of cats flashed before him—sickly elders, injured kits, and bloodied warriors all limping through the fern-covered entrance of ThunderClan's medicine den. Their cries assaulted his ears as a massive heap of herbs appeared before him, and he inhaled sharply through his nose, choking on the pungent scent of the different plants. After a few heartbeats, the grassy clearing of the medicine den faded into the crowded hollow of Fourtrees.

"As a medicine cat, it was my duty to care for my Clanmates," Featherwhisker murmured. "Every cat has goals, friends, and family. Try to remember that when you make decisions for the Clan. Think about the warrior you send into battle…and the cat whose life you take."

The dark warrior's muscles tensed beneath his thick pelt as the silver-gray tom's final words filled his mind. A surge of intense heat flooded his chest, and he clenched his jaw.

 _Great StarClan! He knows!_

As the former ThunderClan medicine cat turned and padded into the mass of cats, Tigerclaw shook his head.

 _It doesn't matter. They're giving me lives—and why wouldn't they? Bluestar was a mouse-heart, and they know it. I'll make ThunderClan strong. I just have to get through this ceremony. Maybe the next life will be strength or courage in battle!_

He stepped forward to meet the next life-giver—and could not resist the purr that rumbled in his throat. A sleek, raven-black queen now stood before him, leaf-green eyes glimmering with the otherworldly light of the fallen.

"Leopardfoot." He lifted his tail in greeting, a twinge of warmth filling his chest.

"You've come far, my son," she whispered before placing her frigid nose upon his own. "With this life, I give you the gift of patience."

Tigerclaw braced himself for another overwhelming wave of sensory information, only to be met by an unbreakable silence. The warmth of the nursery had begun to spread into his paws, crawling slowly up his legs and into his thick pelt. Panting, he shook his head as the heat flooded his body before fading into nothingness.

"A Clan is like a litter of kits." Leopardfoot continued. "They don't always listen or agree with you, but they're still yours. Cats' lives depend on the decisions you make. Any hasty action could shorten or lengthen them."

Before he could open his mouth in reply, she turned away from him, and a dull gray tabby took her place. Reddish-orange tail lifted in greeting, the she-cat nodded to him as if she expected him to know her name.

Narrowing his eyes at her, the dark warrior gave the queen a curt nod.

 _Do I know her?_

"I was killed by Blackfoot while I was protecting the nursery from Brokenstar's warriors," she began. "Surely you haven't forgotten your Clanmates so quickly, Tigerclaw?"

 _The elder we lost last greenleaf!_

As he traced her features with his amber gaze, the ThunderClan deputy envisioned the silver hairs of age adorning her muzzle, her now well-muscled body stricken with the small frame of an elder.

"Of course not, Rosetail," he answered before the pressure of her muzzle against his own.

The sting of claws against his flanks followed, and the battle cries of ThunderClan warriors filled his ears. Around him, Clanmates struggled with their blurred adversaries, matching blows, panting for each breath…at the same time. Before he could join the ancient rhythm, a flash of blood-stained fangs filled his vision. He blinked at the darkness that came afterward, stiffening as the StarClan cats reappeared before him.

"With this life, I give you the gift of loyalty." Rosetail had already begun to pull away from him. "Remember that your lives are a gift to protect and serve your Clanmates, no matter what happens. They need someone to look after them, protect them, and even die for them."

"If I ever see Blackfoot again, I'll avenge your death."

The former elder said nothing, only gave him a final nod before rejoining a group of starry warriors sitting near the Great Rock. Flicking her tail at the familiar russet-furred tom that rose to approach the ThunderClan deputy—

 _No! Anyone but—_

"Greetings, Tigerclaw," the russet-furred tom meowed.

"Pinestar," the dark warrior answered, standing stiffly before the past leader of ThunderClan.

 _Why is he here? He left his own Clan for the life of a_ kittypet!

"I may have chosen a different life, but StarClan has allowed me to come tonight to give you a life." Pinestar leaned forward and touched Tigerclaw's nose with his own. "I give you the gift of respect for cats outside of the Clans. Not every kittypet or loner is dishonorable, and not every warrior is noble."

Tigerclaw growled as the scents of unfamiliar cats assaulted his nostrils. With every new odor, another way of life appeared in his mind. Shaking his head, he sighed through his nose at the departure of the outsiders' stench and stared icily at the tomcat who had been his father.

 _You abandoned us! I won't mind losing this one in battle._

"I always regretted leaving you behind," the apparition murmured. "But our lives had different paths. Lead ThuderClan well, my son."

Without another word, Pinestar padded away from the deputy and disappeared into the starry masses.

 _I_ will _lead well. Certainly better than you ever did…._

He blinked at the white tortoiseshell that took his father's place. Barely reaching his shoulders, the she-cat would have been easily defeated in a battle.

 _Almost as pathetic as Ravenpaw._

"You probably won't remember me," she meowed, greeting him with a small nod. "My name is Sweetpaw. I died only a few sunrises after you were born. I wonder if you'd have thought of me as a capable warrior, if I had."

Resisting the urge to flinch at her words, the dark tabby bent to meet her glimmering muzzle.

"With this life, I give you mentorship."

Fuzzy blurs of kits playing in the nursery flashed before him. Cats that had been and that were still to be, each emanating streaks of pulsating starlight. Future warriors, medicine cats, queens, and leaders….

"We all have our own purposes, even if others can't see them. No one becomes a warrior without effort and a good mentor. The weakest kit in the nursery could become your greatest ally with the right training."

 _At least this life makes some sense. But where are the lives for ambition and strength? These lives—_

"Tigerclaw."

The familiar pair of amber eyes locked with his as the gray-and-white tom stumbled toward him. Fur ruffled into haphazard spikes, the newcomer glanced behind him at the crowd of ancestors—and shuddered before turning to face his subject.

"You were a strong warrior, Thistleclaw. And a good mentor. If I'd gotten to that fox-hearted RiverClan cat on time…." Tigerclaw growled, unsheathing his claws.

"That doesn't matter. With this life, I give you farsightedness." Thistleclaw's breaths came in labored pants as if—

 _He's been running! But why?_

The leader-to-be stiffened as his former mentor's frigid nose made contact with his. A wave of possibilities entered his mind, each pleading for his attention. Swarming like bees in a crowded hive, each future came with a sharp wave of pressure against his skull, and he closed his eyes. As the throbbing continued, he sank his claws into the ground and clenched his needle-like teeth.

"Thinking about what will come can be overwhelming and painful. But doing it can save you and your Clan in the future. Be careful, Tigerclaw."

A final stab of pain, followed by silence. After a heartbeat, the dark warrior reentered the dreamlike Fourtrees, squinting at the radiant bodies filling the clearing. Thistleclaw no longer stood before him, but traces of the gray-and-white cat's resinous scent lingered.

 _Where is he?_

Tigerclaw's gaze darted across the clearing before landing on a flash of the familiar, spiked pelt…followed by the dim blur of another fallen warrior. Before he could draw another breath, both of the apparitions disappeared into the darkness surrounding the hollow.

 _What was that about?_

But the next fallen warrior had already begun to approach him. The thick locks of fur creating the golden tabby's fluffy mane glimmered with flecks of hidden starlight as the deceased tom strode through the grass.

"I wasn't surprised when Bluestar chose you as her deputy after I joined StarClan," he began. "Actually, I always wondered why she didn't pick you to replace Redtail. She trusted you more than any other cat in the Clan."

 _Are you here to give me a life or challenge me, Lionheart? ThunderClan was weak under that mouse-heart; I'm here to make us great._

Resisting the urge to flick his tail at his former Clanmate's speech, he nodded.

"You were a good fighter. The whole Clan mourned when you left us."

"With this life, I give you justice."

The burn that followed Lionheart's words climbed through his stinging paws and into his chest. Worse than stepping on the blazing thunderpath during greenleaf, it spread like a white flame until his body had been consumed by its fervent rage. After a couple of heartbeats, the pain ebbed into a dull ache, and Tigerclaw exhaled silently at the relief.

"Every life in the camp is depending on you to do what's right—even if it goes against your interests. Leading without justice makes you no better than Brokenstar and his group of rogues," Lionheart added, eyes locked onto the ThunderClan deputy.

 _Is that an accusation?_

The dark warrior's throat began to tighten as the pale green pools of light swept over him. Dipping his head as a deputy would address a leader, he squelched the growl threatening to escape.

 _Allying with Brokenstar was the most reasonable way to get rid of that mouse-heart. Some things have to be done. If Lionheart had understood that, he would have been one of the greatest warriors in the forest. He's just as weak as Bluestar…._

"Lead our Clan well," the golden tom meowed before stepping aside to allow the next StarClan cat, a reddish-orange tabby she-cat, to approach.

"Greetings, Tigerclaw," she began, flicking her ears as she met his gaze. "I remember when I became an elder. You told me you'd take care of me better than the other apprentices."

"And I made sure to feed the elders before I took prey from the fresh-kill pile, Poppydawn."

"With this life, I give you mercy." Poppydawn's frigid muzzle sent a rush of cold through the dark tabby's spine and into his extremities.

Gasping for breath as the chilly wave gripped his chest, Tigerclaw closed his eyes…and opened them to a giant battlefield. The scent of blood mingled with the sickly-sweet stench of death, permeating the air…and the scarlet ground beneath him. Small groups of war-battered cats had gathered around the lifeless lumps of fur lying in the grass, and their wails echoed across the emptiness.

Resisting the urge to shudder at the cries of mourning, the dark warrior stared sightlessly into the carnage. As his gaze met each pair of empty pools of light, a swarm of choked whispers invaded his mind.

 _"_ _Don't leave me…."_

 _"_ _Take care of our kits…."_

 _"_ _I'm sorry…."_

An odd tingling gnawed at the bottom of his throat as the final words of the dying warriors assaulted his ears, and he sank his claws into the bloodstained soil.

"A true warrior doesn't have to kill to win his battles."

Tigerclaw blinked as the dark image faded into the hollow swarming with StarClan cats.

 _What good is mercy when they can face you again? If you kill your enemies, they can't come back. Is all of StarClan a group of mouse-hearts?!_

"Don't underestimate your enemies." The red she-cat narrowed her eyes at him.

 _Fox-dung! Does she know I didn't want this one?_

After a heartbeat, Poppydawn turned to rejoin her ancestors, and Sunstar emerged from the center of the throng. Closing his eyes, he placed his nose atop Tigerclaw's.

A blazing flash of light filled the dark warrior's vision with nothing but white as Sunstar's gift released its burning energy. Unsheathing his claws, he braced himself against the smoldering sting of the invisible flames consuming him from muzzle to tail-tip.

"With this life, I give you the endurance and ferocity of the tiger."

Splotches of blue, green and purple danced across Tigerclaw's line of view as the clearing reappeared. Sunstar now stood atop the Great Rock, overlooking the fallen and their living company.

"I hail you by your new name, Tigerstar. Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of ThunderClan. Defend it well; care for the young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity."

As soon as the ginger tabby had closed his mouth, yowls rose from the past members of ThunderClan.

"Tigerstar! Tigerstar!" The chants filled his ears as the hollow faded into darkness….

* * *

Tigerstar opened his eyes to the dimly-lit chamber of the Moonstone, inhaling deeply through his nose at the dull ache in his legs. Without a word, he stood and began to stretch each paw, ignoring the vehement protests of every muscle in his body.

"The ceremony went well. No interruptions." Yellowfang still lay at the base of the now-unlit crystal, sickly-yellow gaze gleaming in the darkness.

 _And why wouldn't it? They knew ThunderClan needed a strong leader. …They came. Great StarClan, they came…._

"We should go," the mangy she-cat continued, rising from the frigid stone. "The Clan will be expecting us."

Giving her a curt nod, Tigerstar made his way toward the tunnel from which they had descended.

 _I've done it. I'll lead ThunderClan to greatness, and not even StarClan can stop me. The other Clans will fear us…respect us. I am Tigerstar, and I have won…._

* * *

Hey, y'all!

Just wanted to thank you again for the support that you have given this book! It's been a while, and I apologize for the longer wait on this chapter. I'm hoping to attempt to publish more frequently throughout the rest of this year, if I can (life of a college student XD). Thank you again for your feedback and support!

Special shoutout to The MoonClanner, who suggested the idea for Tigerstar's last life! I absolutely loved it, and I hope it's okay that I used it!

Best wishes,

LGraceT


	7. Chapter 7

"Great StarClan!"

Fireheart opened his eyes to the darkened silhouettes of Graystripe and Runningnose seated at the mouth of the medicine den. Backs turned to him, they stared into the night sky.

"What?" The ginger tom rose from his mossy nest, inhaling sharply through his teeth at the dull ache of his wounds.

 _What's going on?_

As he limped to the fern-covered entryway, he glanced at Littlecloud's sleeping form. Though the ShadowClan warrior had fallen into restful unconsciousness after receiving Graystripe's gift, his breaths still came in shallow wheezes, and the rotten stench of disease lingered.

 _I've never seen a cat that sick before…._

He stiffened as the small tabby gave a quiet groan and rolled to face the stone wall of the medicine den.

"What's that?!" Graystripe's questioning meow pierced the night's stillness.

Fireheart turned to face the pair of cats sitting in front of him. After a heartbeat, he approached them, giving Graystripe a small nod as the dark gray warrior scooted a fox-length to the side. He followed his friend's gaze into the inky sky, eyes widening at the sight that awaited them.

 _What in StarClan's name—?!_

Two stars were streaking across the expanses of Silverpelt. Blazing in the darkness, they swirled around the other pale flecks as if—

"One of them's chasing the other." Runningnose's rasp came in a choked whisper. "Look…."

The first of the pair of pulsating claw-pricks, a dimly lit orb, seemed to touch the tips of the dark pines surrounding ShadowClan's camp as it descended from the purplish-black void. Its silver pursuer had almost made contact with the fleeing ancestor, brilliant flares beginning to obscure it from view. After a heartbeat, both vanished below the tree-line and flickered into nothingness.

A tingling chill raced down Fireheart's backbone, and he glanced at Graystripe. The fur along his friend's shoulders stood upright, bristling as if a fox or badger had crashed into the medicine den.

"…Runningnose?" the dark gray warrior asked.

Graystripe's mouth parted as if to continue but snapped closed. His unspoken question hung over the ShadowClan camp like the thick clouds of a thunderstorm.

 _Is it a sign?_

"I…I don't know," the gray-and-white tom answered. "In my moons as a medicine cat, I never— Yellowfang didn't— I…."

Chest heaving with a shaky sigh, Runningnose shook his head. He stood from the cool floor of the medicine den and began to make his way into its depths. Every one of his frantic murmurs echoed in the small cavern as he disappeared into the large crack in the back of the chamber.

"Rat plague, scarce prey…. StarClan going mad…. What's happening to us? Great StarClan, all of it after Brokenstar!"

Fireheart craned his neck to watch the ShadowClan medicine cat's tailtip disappear between the smooth stone walls.

"…How are your wounds?"

"Better. They don't feel as swollen." The ginger tom barely managed to force the words through his tightened throat.

"Would you like some fresh kill? I just came back from a hunting patrol," Graystripe offered, standing from the well-trodden dirt beneath him. "You haven't eaten since last sunrise."

Fireheart gave no verbal answer, only nodded in reply.

 _But I'm not hungry._

His stomach had remained clenched since his battle with Tigerclaw—Tigerstar now. The image of the dark tabby's massive form standing atop the boulder from which Bluestar had addressed the Clan sent a jolt of tingling energy through the young warrior's chest. Pricking at the base of his throat like brambles, the sensation continued for a few heartbeats before dissipating into numbness.

 _It's over. He won. …And it's…. It's…_

Drawing a shaky breath through his nostrils, he glanced at the dark gray tom exiting the medicine den. The warrior that had taken a mate from a different Clan, had scored his skin with claw-marks only a few sunrises prior to Tigerstar's rogue attack. That had carried him across the ShadowClan border.

He sighed through his nose as his friend reentered the den. A shrew dangled from Graystripe's muzzle, leaf-bare-thin beneath its thick coat of soot-colored fur.

"Thank you," he whispered as his fellow exile placed the recently-killed prey in front of him.

Graystripe dipped his head and retook his seat, staring sightlessly into the void of Silverpelt. Only the dull crunch of bone between Fireheart's teeth disturbed the silence as the battle-sore warrior began to force bites of his meal down his throat.

Gazing upward from his shrew, he scanned the aftermath of Longtail's assault upon the thick-furred tom. The patch of pale skin above Graystripe's eye gleamed in the starlight, and a thin line of reddish-pink raced down the former ThunderClan cat's leg.

"How are _your_ wounds?" Fireheart's barely audible meow pierced the stillness of several heartbeats.

"Not bad," came the answer. "Longtail isn't the best fighter in the forest. Runningnose has already treated them. Says I should be healed in a few sunrises."

"…What's wrong with them? ShadowClan?"

"Runningnose didn't really talk about it, but a lot of them are sick. Most of the warriors and apprentices can't hunt. Stumpytail and Wetfoot have been taking all of the healthiest cats out on patrols," Graystripe replied.

"What about the deputy? Is he sick?" Fireheart cocked his head at his company.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him, and they won't let me sleep in the warriors' den. I tried to ask Runningnose, but he didn't say anything. Just looked at me and told me he needed to get more herbs."

The ginger tom glanced at the warriors' den as he began to conjure an image of ShadowClan's deputy.

 _Cinderfur. That was his name. He was with Nightstar's group when we helped them drive out Brokenstar._

The thin, dull gray tom had returned to his warrior duties after Brokenstar's defeat, replacing Blackfoot as ShadowClan's deputy. Often greeting members of ThunderClan with bared fangs and unsheathed claws, Cinderfur had been among the strongest protesters of Bluestar's act of keeping Brokenstar alive.

 _Nightstar was angry about it, too. Why would he let us in? Last time I saw him, he was attacking ThunderClan, and he didn't care we'd helped him drive Brokenstar—Brokentail now— out._

Fireheart had learned the brevity of alliances with other Clans in his brief life as a warrior under Bluestar. The remembrance of aid lasted a few sun-circles, but fury at violations could survive for several moons, locked in the minds of warriors like the river beneath a layer of ice during leafbare. Nightstar would not allow ThunderClan warriors into ShadowClan's camp, but…

 _Maybe he remembered us. He could've come in while I was still…but why didn't he come when I woke up? Runningnose would've told him._

"Graystripe, where's Nightstar?"

The dark gray warrior turned to face him, an odd light flickering within the yellow gaze. After a few heartbeats, Graystripe shook his head.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him."

"So he didn't come when we got here?" Fireheart asked.

"No. …But no one else did, either. When we walked in, almost the whole camp was empty. I think I saw maybe a couple of warriors and an apprentice. And Runningnose after they rushed us in here. No one else came out. Maybe he's busy trying to help the Clan?" Graystripe winced as he swiped a paw over the bald patch marring his forehead. "Great StarClan, I hope it grows back soon!"

Fireheart glanced upward at the endless mass of ancient warriors staring down at the Clans from Silverpelt. Glimmering with the ferocity of the ancient Clans of giant wild cats that had once ruled the forest, the pulsating forms of the ancestors had not moved since the pair of stars had disappeared below the trees' shadowed figures.

"Or…" the ginger tom murmured, turning to face his company.

"What is it?" Graystripe's eyes widened to almost twice their size as soon as they met the wounded tom's forest-green gaze. "You think…?"

Fireheart gave no reply, only nodded to the empty camp.

 _We should've seen Nightstar_ _by now. What if Runningnose didn't tell him? Didn't want to disturb him? What if he's sick, too?_


End file.
